Page 116 of Clash of Storms
"I would never have killed him of my own volition."
"True." She laughed softly. "You were more stubborn than I imagined. Ensorcelling you was some of my finest work." Leaning down she stared into his eyes. "You can't remember all of it, can you? You should, you know. I want you to see it all."
The green swallowed him whole. He blinked and saw her in his bed, lying upon the sheets beside him and stroking his biceps.
She'd been fully clothed, but when he'd woken from a nightmare in a sweat, for a second he hadn't been able to understand what she'd been doing there. There'd been a moment where he'd almost leapt out of his bed, horrified at the thought of being caught with his aunt in his bedchamber.
"You've been having such nightmares,"she'd whispered."I only thought to ease them."
He'd barred his rooms after that, but every night he woke from dreams that left him dripping with sweat, and he swore he could hear her laughter echoing in the air.
"What did you do to me?" Sirius asked, the dull pit of horror yawning open within him. Wrapping his fingers around the chains, he hauled himself to his feet, wincing as his mangled left foot lolled uselessly.
Amadea dug a single claw into his chest. "Remember," she said, the word ringing in his ears, as the swirl of her hypnotic green Chaos magic knotted around him like chains that sank beneath his skin.
Sirius slipped inside the king's chambers, moving with a slow, predatory grace. He held a knife against his thigh, and his heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he caught sight of his target. There was a moment of doubt—I can't do this—but he couldn't seem to stop himself from moving inexorably forward, his gaze locking on the middle of the king's back, right between his shoulder blades.
"Remember who you are."
Sirius's grip flexed around the braided leather of the hilt. It would be too easy. The king's back was turned, the golden waves of his hair brushing his collar as he surveyed himself in the mirror. He didn't even see the threat coming.
I can't. I can't.
"Yes, you can," whispered a malicious voice in his ears.
The king's eyes met his in the mirror, a faint frown drawing his brows together. "Rurik?"
He turned, nostrils flaring as he breathed in Sirius's scent, his gaze dropping to the knife.
And then all Sirius could see was blood, staining his hands.
The scent of it thick in his nostrils.
His hands trying desperately to massage the king's heart in his chest, trying to thaw the frigid slurry that was all that remained....
What had he done? What had he done?
The world blinked and swirled, and suddenly he was standing on the dais before the court as the queen somberly told the court King Reynar had been murdered by his son.
"Tell them the truth," she said, turning to Sirius, and her eyes glowed green. "We all know dreki cannot lie."
"I saw the prince standing over his father." His voice echoed hollowly. "There was blood all over his hands. I could smell it, thick in my nostrils. He was trying to stop the bleeding, but it was too late. He killed the king. He stabbed him, again and again. And all the king saw was Rurik's face. All he knew was one last moment of betrayal as he died."
Sirius came back to the world, a scream trapped in his raw throat and his spine bowed.
"You fucking bitch." Sirius slammed to the end of his chains, baring his teeth at her. She flinched, but didn't step away from him. The lash of pain was nothing compared to the discordant ache within him. "You are poison."
She'd used him. Turned him into a murderer.
Everything that had happened to this court lay at his feet.
The drekling's deaths. Rurik's exile. Malin's fear.
He felt like he wanted to be ill.
"To take and to hold, Sirius. Reynar was going to sever our mating contract. He had to die and the only way to do it was in a way he'd never see coming."
He stared at her incredulously, the strain behind his eye aching fiercely. Could she not even see how wrong this was?
